


Dust to Dust

by Anarchyinplasma



Category: RWBY
Genre: Dark, Gen, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 00:50:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5986720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchyinplasma/pseuds/Anarchyinplasma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qrow finally let's loose, things go as well as expected for the Grimm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dust to Dust

**Author's Note:**

> More for my version of Qrow (Qrow with devil trigger).

It was only after Summer's death that Qrow dared to let his semblance free at least. His first hunt after Raven had left, and Summer was dead, Tai was gone with his children. Just Qrow, his scythe, and a Grimm infested forest. Suddenly he's overwhelmed by hatred for the Grimm, Summer shouldn't be dead, she should be alive, and kicking Grimm in the face, here with him. Tai shouldn't have to suffer alone, unable to vent his grief while taking care of his daughters. Raven shouldn't have just up and left.

An alpha lumbers out towards him. Then the bloodlust starts.  
“Power” craves the voice in his soul, the pounding in his head; red starts to hug the edges of his vision “give, me, power” Qrow starts violently; he hasn't heard that voice for many years, he tries to shove it down, but it's too hard, he collapses to his knees. Groaning in internal pain. The Grimm creeps closer, sensing potential weakness, a few beowolves appear at the tree line, sensing the hunter's overwhelming negativity.

Slowly matter condenses onto Qrow’s face, forming the mask he's come to fear. The horns form. The beast is unbound again, this time it won't be shoved down by exhaustion. By this time a small army of Grimm; comprising various species, has gathered in the clearing he rests in.

The iridescent boots shimmer fully into form. For only the second time in his life, Qrow's semblance is fully active. The devil in his place stands slowly, movements stiff and jerky, almost completely inhuman. It sighs, and the voice that comes out is Qrow's, but it's distorted. Heavily synthesised, with a tinny overtone. The stream from its breath curls in the air in front of the mask. Sharp teeth click together as it moves the jaw experimentally, hinging it oddly.

A low hiss is drawn out as it begins to speak. “What a welcome party” vocal chords rasp and strain under the new form and command. Syllables drawn out to a rasping hiss, the long cape shimmers with iridescence in the disjointed moonlight. Rainbow patterns reflect from the voluptuous fabric. A far cry from the paltry red specimen that once enclosed his shoulders.

Like Qrow his semblance has grown, where once it was a few key differences in clothing, and a physical change, now the horns from his head curl magnificently skyward. The mask hasn't changed, it still contours perfectly to his face but the armoured shoulders are wider, and lighter. It's still a slim build, after all Qrow is a scythe user, his fighting style is dependant on his ability to move. Being built like Tai would give only a detriment.

The shotguns roar to life and Qrow is fired forward, his form far past the alpha in barely a moment. But the wicked blade of Magnanimous Scorn catches, and the alpha is disembowelled, the corpse disintegrating after a moment as all Grimm do.

Unhinged he tears into the ranks of the Grimm. Bloodied stumps are sent flying as he swirls the weapon in his grasp out of his grip for a moment, leaving it to rotate in the air of its own free momentum. It returns to his grasp and the dual shotguns scream as the they discharge round after round. One rotates abruptly and the first enhanced blow creates a fist sized hole in Qrow's abdomen. The second shot pulverises a Grimm skull behind him, the hole closes up with as little fuss as it opened and the shotgun returns to it's previous position as Qrow swings up and keeps the momentum going with the gun blasts to eviscerate three leaping Grimm in one baleful movement.

The point embeds itself firmly in the ground and Qrow carries on the momentum his weapon was carrying. Somersaulting over the scythe and ripping out from the ground as he stands. He brings the weapon straight down and cleaves an alpha beowulf in twain with a single swing. After 9 more hours of grueling bloodsoaked slaughter, Qrow stands alone in a clearing run red with blood. The mire soaks his shoes and stains his cloak.

His semblance slowly flakes off him as he trudges towards his hotel for the night. The barkeeps face when he walks in is nothing short of astounding. Qrow sits at the bar, having traipsed blood, mire, and death across the lobby and through the hotel. Sits heavily on an available stool and growls “I need a drink.”


End file.
